


Battle Scars

by mariamuses



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Short Drabble, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:10:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariamuses/pseuds/mariamuses
Summary: Based on a prompt sent to me.





	Battle Scars

As her sword came down, she stopped her swing close enough to his neck to press the skin there, but not cut it.

“Do you surrender now, Buzzard?” she asked, rising her eyebrows.

“Humpf. Fine. But you cheated Fireheart”, he gave up, his sword clattering to the floor and hands coming up to push the blade on his neck away, without trying to cut himself.

“No, I didn’t”, denied Aelin, a victory smile dancing on her lips.

“We agreed, no magic”, said Rowan, his white hair falling on his eyes and sticking to his forehead because of the sweat.

“You did. I crossed my fingers”, laughed the queen.

Rowan mumbled something not even her ears could pick up. Throwing her arms around his shoulders from behind and jumping onto his back like a piggy back ride and head peeking into the front, passing his ears, she inquired:

“What did you say?”

“I said, that you, your Majesty are spoiled and rotten. A brat”, proclaimed the king, an unrestrained, wide grin now grazing his lips, the familiar banter with his mate making up for losing to her.

“Yeah, but you love me. Besides, you’re the one doing the spoiling”, bit back Aelin while being carried to her chambers, ready to take a shower and wipe all the dirt from her whole self.

* * *

 

After taking a shower together and engaging in other fun activities, the king and queen of Terrasen went to their walk-in closet to throw some night clothes on.

Aelin, having walked out of the shower first, had already put her night gown on. It was light blue silk, the edges covered in yellow lace, which, all in all, brought out her eyes.

Not that Rowan could see them now. She had her back to him, her tattoos standing out in the midst of her scars, telling the stories of the people closest to her, right above the proof of all she had had to endure.

Throwing some boxers on and not being able to resist it, he came up behind her, hugging her.

He felt her stiffen, a reflex, and after scenting him, Aelin relaxed into his front, taking a deep breath.

Then, he started a trail of kisses down her spine, covering every inch of her scars in them, proud starting to surge in him.

Aelin chuckled, tickles rising from the attention of her mate and tried to turn around.

The effort was futile, though, because Rowan held her still until he finished his pampering.

“Ro, what are you doing?”, she asked, laughing.

“Kissing your scars”, he answered as he turned her around, only to throw his arms around her waist, and pull her into his chest, to look down at her.

“I know, you fae bastard. But why?”, Aelin said, turning her head up at him.

After kissing her forehead, he simply answered:

“No one has ever kissed them better before, so I’m doing it now.”

Tears pricked her eyes and love shone on them as she got on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Thank you, Rowan. You’re all I need to make me forget they’re even there in the first place.”

They stood like that, foreheads pressing together and breathing each other in. After a while she spoke.

“I love you so much Buzzard.”

“To whatever end, Fireheart. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt sent to me.


End file.
